


Notebook Doodles

by ThePendragonQueen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Depressed Lance (Voltron), High School AU, Hurt/Comfort, Lance's home life isn't great, Langst, keith is unnamed but it's him, klance, lance is depressed, not graphic, shiro is like a guidance counselor in training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25352245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePendragonQueen/pseuds/ThePendragonQueen
Summary: Our minds tend to slip a bit while in class. They wonder to a different place, to the unknown, and sometimes those thoughts come out as random doodles on a notebook page and, sometimes, those doodles aren't very happy looking. When a boy next to him in class notices this it causes Lance some trouble. High school AU
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 107





	Notebook Doodles

Lance wasn’t completely sure where to go. It was his first day of Junior year and he was officially an upper classman meaning he was in a whole new section of the school. He had to try and find his home room- room 273- but he was aimlessly walking through the 100’s with no idea how to get to the higher numbers.

Lance was about to give up and ask a teacher when he saw his best friend Hunk on the other side of the hallway looking lost yet slightly more sure than Lance. Lance weaved through the crowd to get to Hunk.

“Hey, Hunk!” He shouted as he ran up to him, making him jump a mile into the air.

“Lance! Oh geez, you scared me,” he said clutching his chest dramatically.

Lance held the map of the school up to Hunks face. “Where’s room 273? ‘Cause I’ve been looking for 5 minutes an nothin’,” he asked.

Hunk squinted at the map as he studied it. “Hmmm, aren’t the 200’s up stairs? My class is 250, so we must be close to each other. Let’s go upstairs.”

It took 5 more minutes of aimlessly walking around confused before they finally found the hallway and walked into their classes. As Lance sat down he saw all the people from last year plus a couple new ones. Kids ran around and shouted as the hugged friends they hadn’t seen for three months. Lance knew a lot of people here, he hugged and said hi, but he didn’t necessarily *know* them. Not as much as he wished he did. He knew a lot of kids but didn’t know a lot about them. And they didn’t know a lot about him. No one knew the disastrous home he came from or the hideous thoughts that ran through his head all the time or the cuts that sometimes littered his arm when he was having a bad day. He wasn’t completely sure he wanted any of them to know.

The idea of letting someone know seemed unrealistic- like a dream he wished he could have but never knew how to achieve. So instead, he hid it. He hid it all with a smile and some jokes and a cocky personality all the teachers hated.

The greetings were interrupted when the bell rang and the teacher instructed them to sit down. She gave them all assigned seats and started the lecture on how things were going to work now that they were Juniors. Lance lost interest in 30 seconds. He was twirling his hands and shaking his legs while staring at the classroom and the people in it- anything to keep him from dying of boredom.

Lance’s eyes rested upon the boy sitting next to him. He had long, dark hair and skin paler than the moon. His cropped red jacket was a strange fashion choice but Lance appreciated the bravery. He was sure he had seen this kid before, only a couple times while walking through the hallway. He may have had a class with him Freshman year but he didn’t know his name. The boys head was down as he drew little doodles in his notebook. His hair flopped down in front of his eyes as they darted back and forth.

The boy must have felt Lance staring at him because he glanced in his direction. Lance’s eyes went wide as he quickly looked back to the teacher who was still talking about Junior year.

Lance drummed on the table with his fingers. He needed something to do. He was so bored. Just sitting here listening was absolutely agonizing. Lance decided to take a page from the boy next to him and doodle in his notebook.

It started off simple, some flowers in a garden with a sun shining above. But the sun got covered up with dark clouds and the flowers drowned in rain. He scribbled helplessly at the paper, his mind ringing with thoughts.

He was lost in the doodles until he felt eyes on him. He looked over to see the boy staring at him and his drawing. The boy quickly glanced away and Lance shut his notebook. That was enough doodling, he decided.

The day went on and the days kept coming. Everyday he sat in Homeroom. Everyday he listened to a different lecture. Everyday he took out his notebook, made some new doodles, write down some feelings. And everyday he could feel it, feel the stares from the boy next to him who couldn’t seem to mind his own business. What did he want? Why did he keep looking over all the time?

Lance’s drawings became more vigorous and he drew with a fury he didn’t know was in him. A stitch here, a broken heart there, rain on the corners, a tiny face doodle, a cut just below the eye.

One day was especially bad. The night before things had exploded at his house. In a desperate attempt to get away from it all he hid in his room, tears running down his cheeks until he house quieted. Once it did Lance still couldn’t seem to fall asleep. He stared at the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest, his mind racing. He couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop the voices running through his head.

Eventually he gave in to them. Anything to make them shut up and let him sleep. It was 2 am, everyone was asleep, the world was dark, and his head couldn’t figure out how to shut up. He grabbed the scissors from his desk. He relieved pain. Finally, his mind let him sleep.

The next morning he remembered to wear a jacket to school. It wasn’t cold enough for a jacket but not so hot that he would get really strange stares. That day in homeroom he drew some more in his notebook, darker than most of the other days. Next to him the boy stared at him. Lance’s mouth drew into a scowl as he leaned over and angled his arm so the boy couldn’t see.

Lance drew harder on his paper. His bag-ridden eyes focused on the paper in front of hi.M. He heard the teacher scoff and he looked up. She was staring at him, waiting for him to pay attention. Lance placed his pencil down on his desk and watched the teacher.

As he tried to listen he heard his pencil roll of his desk and fall to the floor. Lance bent down to grab it but found that the boy next to him was already doing so. He grabbed the pencil off the floor and handed it to Lance with a small smile. Lance smiled back and reached out to grab the pencil. As he did, his jacket sleeve slipped up, just enough to show some of the markings the night before. The boy glanced down at them then at Lance’s notebook. Lance grabbed his pencil and quickly yanked his arm back, shut his notebook, and folded his arms in on himself. Had he just slipped up?

The day continued on. He hung out with Hunk, walked to the bus stop with Pidge who was an old friend that had just started high school. Home wasn’t any better that day but he got through it better this time.

The next day in home room he didn’t have time to take out his notebook when someone entered through the door. It was a tall man with black hair. Lance recognized him as an old student who came back to work temporarily in the office.

“May I have Lance McClain for a second? He needs to go to the office,” he asked the teacher.

All around Lance students snickered as he stood up.

“Ooh, someone’s in trouble.”

“It’s only the first couple weeks of school and you’re already getting called down?”

“What did you do now?”

Next to him Lance felt the boy stare at him intently, his dark eyes hidden behind the hair that fell on top of them. Lance glanced down at him before following the office guy out of the classroom.

Once they got out and the door was shut the man turned to look at him. “Hi Lance, I’m Shiro,” he said as he stuck a hand out to shake.

“Uh, hi,” Lance said as he awkwardly shook back. “Am I in trouble? I haven’t done anything, I swear.”

Shiro laughed lightly. “No, no, you’re not in trouble. The guidance counselor just wants to have a talk with you.”

Lance wasn’t sure why the guidance counselor wanted to talk to him but he didn’t bother asking. It was a quiet walk to the office as Lance followed behind Shiro. Once he got there Lance followed Shiro into the guidance councilors room.

“Please, come in, have a seat,” she said as she gestured to the chair in front of her desk. Lance sat down slowly as Shiro closed the door yet stayed in the room. Lance glanced down at the desk. A plaque said her name was Ms. Scott. She cleared her throat before continuing. “Now, Mr. McClain, if you don’t mind, Shiro will be listening into our conversation for… multiple reasons. One being he may want to be involved in these kind of matters.” Lance wasn’t sure what “kind of matters” this actually was but he didn’t press.

“Now, Lance, you’re here because we’re a little worried about you. Tell me, how are things going at home? Are they good?” Lance nodded slowly, unsure of wether to tell the truth or not. “And there’s nothing… bothering you? Anything on your mind? You’re sleeping well?” Lance nodded slowly again. He wasn’t sure where this was going but he didn’t like it.

“Lance, I just want to be very clear with you here, I need you to tell me the truth. I got an anonymous tip saying that you may be in harm or in danger by others or yourself and it is my responsibility as the schools guidance counselor to take action,” she stopped for a second and stared at Lance in the eyes before continuing. “So please be honest and answer my questions truthfully or I will have to require further investigation if I believe that you are not telling me the whole story.”

Lance swallowed hard. Maybe a tiny part of him wanted people to know but never like this. He was being put under so much pressure, he hated it.

“Let’s start, shall we?” Ms. Scott said. “So tell me, how are you feeling? Do you feel nervous? Anxious? Are you moving around all the time?”

Lance nodded slowly. “A little I guess.”

Ms. Scott nodded. “And do you ever feel… depressed? Alone? Like you have no one to talk to?”

Lance froze on that one. He felt like a dear in headlights. He wasn’t sure what to say. “Uhh, I- um, I guess,” he stuttered.

Ms. Scott nodded once more. “Are there any reasons you can think of as to why you are feeling this way? Maybe at home or with friends?” She asked.

Lance twiddled with his hands. “Yeah… I guess.”

“Lance, I want you to be sure about your answers. No more ‘I guess’, tell me how you feel, what’s going on.” She said. It took Lance some time but he got to it. It was slow at first, just rambling and stuttering but more stuff spilled out quicker and quicker as his chest felt the relief of getting it out. He never thought it could feel so good. He was so desperate for that feeling that he told her most of the situation- anything as long as he could feel some of the weight being lifted off his shoulders.

Ms. Scott nodded throughout the talk. She asked questions, gave insight. At the end of it all she smiled a little sadly at Lance. “Now, Lance, by law I am required to turn all this into the police and allow them to take care of this situation. I just want to let you know that.”

Lance’s stomach twisted. He didn’t want that. Yet a part of him did. He wasn’t sure which part to listen to so he said nothing, only gave a slow nod.

“I just want you to be aware of that. The police are going to have to check this out and make sure that you are no longer in danger of others or yourself. Okay?” Lance nodded solemnly. Ms. Scott gave him a small smile. “I’m proud of you, Lance. You did a good job today, coming in and speaking with me. I appreciate your cooperation. If you would like you are welcome to stay inside the office and relax for a little before heading back to class.”

Lance nodded and walked out of the room, Shiro giving him a small smile. He sat down on one of the nurse beds. He closed his eyes and relaxed for a little. Once he felt calm and in control of his emotions he got up and walked back to class.

As he entered everyone stared. Lance gave a large smile to them, an attempt to let them know that he was not in trouble or at least got out of trouble with whatever they believed he was in the office for. As he took his seat he glanced over at the boy next to him. He had been staring at him ever he had opened the door. It was him. Lance knew it.

When the bell rang he quickly ran to catch up to the boy and yanked him aside. The boy stared at him with large eyes as Lance gave him a hard stare. “It was you, wasn’t it. You told them.”

The boy’s eyes were wide behind his dark bangs. “I’m sorry, don’t be mad, I just wanted to help, I know how it feels to be alone,” he said quickly, his hands held up as a deflection.

Lance’s anger melted as he heard what this boy had to say. Maybe he was wrong to be mad at him. Maybe he did need help and someone to talk to. Maybe this was a good thing. The boy flinched as he looks away from Lance, readying himself for a fist to the face. Instead Lance let go of him and took a step back. The boy looked at him curiously. Lance gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”


End file.
